The Great Lost

The Fool

Nihilism gnaws at Persephone as she surrenders the last of her love to the darkness. She knows Hades will welcome her there; place a crown upon her enlightenment.

She wrestles with catastrophe.

Despair, wraps her arms around her and comfort finds a home in the familial wasteland of the Great Lost. Confusion offering up the last dying shards of illumination into the nothing.

She sinks to an all-time low.

She is broken beyond words, an unimaginable state of being, untenable suffering refusing to let go rendering her moot.

She trusts in the All of everything.

Right time, right place airs grace her presence and she is alone once again. This is her destiny? If only she could be happy here.

As above, so below.

Psyche is not stupid, knowing she must fall in order to rise, she feels compelled to find Persephone dwelling in the dark and look to the beauty hidden there; her ability to love dependant.

‘Fuck me!’ she yells.

They say no pain, no gain; no light without dark but the world burns while she waits for it all to end and it can’t come fast enough! Persephone can’t believe she signed up for this hell hole.

‘You can all suck my phantom dick!’

In the meantime, soul searching becomes a crash course on survival for her demise. She wishes — magical thoughts skip the tutorial and head straight back home where Demeter pours her a cup of sweet leaf tea.

This too shall pass.

The aftermath will give her a reprieve, a reason to put one foot in front of the other and leave those betrayers behind. Solitude giving her security in the end. A simple life if she can find a way to live.

Give thanks and gratitude.

But what about anger? Persephone wants to continue to die on her own terms admitting defeat. Psyche’s heart beat only for Cupid and yet she is not worthy of love. Everything is an illusion, a false construct by design.

It is only through death we find life.

The only life Persephone wants, is with Hades — conditional love built upon mistrust and betrayal. What hope is left when that’s all there is on offer?

© Copyright 2023, Jodine Derena Butler. ‘Poetry Out West’, All Rights Reserved

Acceptance

My Delirium

My Delirium

My thoughts are a jumbled mess of confusion (yours, his, hers & mine) scrying for something to hold onto long enough to make sense of the anchors and foundations we’ve both forged from pain, which now threaten to cave in. There is nothing I can do but watch. You are the man. My dreams and cracked beams are giving way to violence — detachment and oblivion. Nothing will be left but a fully loaded house of teetering cards.

All I feel is loss.

The aftermath will have me face to face with Charon. He sits upon my chest now, opening up my third eye bidding me to say goodbye one last time. My soul declines, offering suffering in silence, compassion finding release in a steady stream and I overflow. My ears make wells to muffle his bargain but I belong to no one, not even him. I am a lost cause.

If I accept, demons could still tear me apart, dismember my appendages piece by bloody piece before sewing me back together skew-whiff, over and over again until I am utterly insane. Therein lies the abyss. The place that makes my life a living hell and all my heart aches for, is to love and be loved.

But all I feel is sadness.

Abandonment caves in my ribcage too. It digs in like a tick underneath my lungs and sucks every last drop of fluid left from my life. I am wrung out and strung out, so I waste no time in knocking myself out just to get lost — I wander in the ether to find her again and bring her back home but there is always a catch.

Twenty two foregone conclusions reek of tyranny. You can’t save me! I was lost before you found me and I don’t belong to you or them or here or anywhere and it will always be like this! I don’t want to believe in angels! I don’t want to believe in demons! I don’t want to live in this place!

There is another outburst of pain.

I seek comfort in my magic, my wand set to low creates slow circles that mimick your gentle touch. I feel pleasure for the first time since I last felt your gaze reach in to pull me out and into your Temple. You try to worship my foreign body, send ripples ricocheting between our vibrations but we have failed to find synchrony. In my delirium, I think I must have died.

All I feel now is grief.

© Copyright 2021, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved

Cold Comfort

I’m going slightly insane
Oh, to be deaf, dumb, blind & mute!
turning that blind eye, having nothing
more to do with it – all

No shoes on her feet
her hair a mess
the first thing she says is,
“Are you a mean stepmother or a nice stepmother?”
cuddling me, she tells me I’m nice before I can answer, awed
saddened & proud
all at once

I’m so afraid for our little girl
afraid to bear witness; joy, pain, confusion, innocence
I do my best, continuing to be consistent,
loving, nurturing & hiding
my own pain to shelter her

I need time out
not from our littlest princess, never
from that bright spark that lights up my world, my own fear worse for wear
knowing truth; being called a liar
cruelty appears nonchalant & we all know
ignorance breeds ignorance

I rise
above this time & detach
from that confined space lodging
deep in my brain & heart, threatening
to expose my GI Jane

She thrashes inside her prison cell,
the bars of my prison bend
but do not break, I give thanks
to God & Godesses & the Furies,
my Crone; for temperance
my aenima inanimate for the moment

,●

I hear her laugh,
that contagious giggle
putting a smile on my face
all I need is patience; I can wait
Karma has not yet spoken, giving
cold comfort will come at a cost – all
I can do is love

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

These Days

I am sad

I wake up alone these days
I wake up
alone

I make my breakfast
thinking
I am changing
a lifetime of bad habits

these days are nothing
like I imagined

I’ve seen better days
I think
maybe if the hollow feeling
in my chest decides
one way or another
to cut me
loose

my existential crisis;
one foot forward
two steps back

these days
turned out nothing
like I had planned

Where do I belong?
Am I where I’m meant to be?
Who do I trust?
Why would I want to anyway?

My bed is calling me
to my happy place
in more ways than one

she comforts me
while my pillows
are makeshift muscles
I spoon
& wrap around
& cling,
burying myself

I long to get lost
to disappear
to re-emerge somewhere else;
transform
into something
resembling reason

They say I run

More often than not
I turn my back
close my eyes
& hope for the best

They say ‘feel the fear
& do it anyway’

that’s never been a problem
until now

today
every move I make
takes my breath away

These days
I am like a Lily

© Copyright 2012, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved